


Windmanor

by alec



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alpha Jack Frost, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But I don't know when that will be, Dark, Foreigner Hiccup, I want to return here someday, M/M, Omega Hiccup, Police Officer Jack, Poverty, Sexual Assault, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alec/pseuds/alec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman simply nodded her head, before picking up her bags and walking with a swagger towards the door, as though she were a fashion model. She probably was at one point. Or had hopes of being. The slums of Windmanor was the land for those of broken dreams and the rejects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windmanor

Hiccup carefully placed the bottle of throat spray on the conveyor belt, and gracelessly allowed the bottles of over-the-counter sleep medicine and migraine relief medication to fall from his hands. He should have gotten a cart, but he hadn’t known that he would wind up with as much medicine as he had.

In front of him, the woman dressed in extravagant colours was pressing her long fingernails at the card panel. Her jacket was an atrocious leopard print, and her pants were different shades of garish colours which led into tall,  _fuzzy_  high heels. Gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears; all she needed was to be chewing gum, and— yep, there it was. The gum. All the same, the cashier was oggling the woman, and it took him a few moments before turning around and ripping the receipt from the printer. “Receipt in the bag?” he asked. The woman simply nodded her head, before picking up her bags and walking with a swagger towards the door, as though she were a fashion model.

She probably was at one point. Or had hopes of being. The slums of Windmanor was the land for those of broken dreams and the rejects.

The cashier waved Hiccup down towards him, his mind finally back to himself now that the spell of the temptress had been broken. As he scanned the box of Melatonin first, he asked: “Did you find everything alright tonight, sir?” 

“Yes, I find everything alright, yes,” Hiccup said, nodding. His English was still imperfect, but usable. It was better than the broken English he had entered the country with, but he still had problems; every day was still a struggle, and the words felt  _unnecessarily_  foreign on his tongue even still.

“Your total is going to be $42.68,” the cashier said, turning to bag all of the medication, and Hiccup’s face ran pale, body in a cold sweat. That was more money than he had thought it would be. Did he even have that much? That was close to four days worth of work. Fingers shaking, he opened his wallet, and pulled out all of the bills that he had — mostly ones, but there were a couple of fives, and two tens. He searched through his pockets feverishly, trying to find spare change. But all he could dig up in the end was $38.21. "I’m sorry, this all I have,“ he said, ashamed and hanging his head to hide the embarrassment creeping across his face.

The cashier counted out the money, before looking back up to Hiccup. “Would you like to put something back,” he asked softly. There was no judgement in his voice, but there wasn’t the offer of helping him out. There were too many people suffering in Windmanor; you couldn’t afford to look out for anybody but yourself.

Hiccup grit his teeth, staring at the boxes of medicine in the bag with a horrible feeling in his stomach, trying to weigh which medicine would be the least vital. The image of Rapunzel laying on the couch, midsection covered in a blanket, moaning and thrashing about and clawing at the couch, tears in her eyes and anguished German on her lips — Hiccup felt his chest ache with guilt as he selected the Melatonin, which brought his total to $36.90. With embarrassment and what little of his ego he had destroyed, he grabbed his bags in haste and walked through the door.

 _»I’m so sorry, Rapunzel. I’ll find a way to help you sleep,»_  he promised himself. Maybe they would be lucky and when her fever and migraine passed, she would drift off to sleep on her own. Out on the street, the sound of police sirens in the far distance met Hiccup’s ears, and the lamp across the street flickered, threatening to die altogether.

Windmanor had once been a semi-reputable district of the larger city; a hundred years ago (or so Hiccup had gathered), the area had housed lower-to-middle income families. But the area had been safe and well maintained all the same. Now, though, Windmanor was considered the ghetto; the slumlands.

The omega housing district.

It wasn’t strictly omegas who lived here, but more often than not, it was. There was no law that omegas had to live in Windmanor; it was simply all they could afford. No omega was going to find a good job, a decent pay, a career. Companies would have outreach programmes — “Yes, we don’t discriminate on your  _body_ _status_ ,” they would say — but these were token positions. And few of them even then. The truth of the matter was that omegas were beneath the others; they were good for breeding and breeding only. He had heard the argument in a political debate on a dusty television in a café long time ago: “You don’t expect hens to live lavish lives. They lay eggs, and that’s all they do for us. The coop is fine for a hen.”

Hiccup had never intended to stay in this country for long. He had been a student once; he was only supposed to be here for a semester, before returning to Sweden. But it had been two years now. Hiccup didn’t like to think about why he was still here.

He had had to drop out of university, as he couldn’t afford it any more. He’d been without a home, no place to go, in a foreign country where he struggled to even speak the language. It was only by Fate herself that he had met Rapunzel shortly thereafter; neither could afford an apartment themselves, but together they had just enough means to be able to scrape by.

Rapunzel’s story was even worse. She had been engaged once. To an alpha. She wasn’t any longer. And she didn’t like to speak of him. But even around Hiccup, she was very careful with her body, with her privacy, and Hiccup understood well enough. They locked all of their doors at night, and even the doors inside the apartment had deadbolts.

Windmanor was where omegas came to die, until they were elected to be ‘saved’ by an alpha, or more rarely, a beta. But there was no happiness, no perfect system, and it was a hunting ground for omegas. Many of the single omegas in Hiccup’s apartment building had pups, or young children now. Late at night, when he could hear crying from all around him, he wasn’t sure if it came from a child, or its parent. And he wasn’t sure which was worse.

The streets looked mostly deserted. If you weren’t looking to sell your body — a horrid practise that all the same, Hiccup had been forced to consider before — you did not leave the relative safety of your house after sunset. It was too dangerous. Even in her barely-conscious state, Raunzel had pleaded with Hiccup not to go to the store; but she couldn’t support her own body upright, and that had only steeled Hiccup’s determination.

Windmanor didn’t have good doctors. She  _couldn’t_  get any worse.

Hiccup walked quickly, staring straight ahead. He kept both bags in one hand, with his other hand in his pocket, gripping a can of pepper spray. Most others in Windmanor carried knives, but Hiccup knew that he would never be able to use one, not even in self defense.

He didn’t look down side alleys; when he reached the ends of city blocks, he didn’t look at the intersecting sidewalks. You kept your eyes to yourself, and watched out for yourself. Only yourself.

Hiccup had made it four blocks from the store when he felt the presence of someone walking behind him. His heart jumped in his chest, beating rapidly, and he quickened his pace.  _»Oh god, please, no.»_ , he prayed, clenching the can of pepper spray even tighter. He tried to keep himself collected, to outwardly not show any fear — fear is what got you singled out. But the stoplight changed colours, and Hiccup’s heart beat even faster. There was no traffic, but if he crossed the street now, it was all over; his follower would know. If he changed his direction, his follower would know. He did the worst thing he could have possibly done in that situation: he turned his head slightly, to see who was following him. He made eye contact with the man, who even at this distance reeked of alpha pheromones, and the man gave a twisted smile.

Hiccup ran.

Their apartment was only two blocks from here, and Hiccup was a fast runner. He could make it. He  _needed_  to make it.

But behind him, he could hear the footfalls of the man running as well. Hiccup’s breaths were coming in ragged, erratic, and it had almost nothing to do with running.

On the verge of tears, he made it to his apartment, skidding to a stop and grabbing his keys so fast that they threatened to fall from his hands. Hiccup was a fast runner — faster than his pursuer.

 _»Come on, please, PLEASE»_  he begged the keys, trying to get it into the lock on the front door.  _»PLEASE»_

He wasn’t fast enough.

He could feel himself being ripped away from the door, and the keys fell from his hands, dropping to the ground on the top step, right in front of the door. Hiccup screamed, as loud as he could, continued screaming until the man’s hands covered his own. The alpha, probably ten years older than himself, smiled menacingly down at Hiccup. His blond goatee crumpled as he gave a smile with no happiness. “Now now, don’t be like that. We’re just going to have a little fun first. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Hiccup thrashed in his arms, but the man was more muscular than Hiccup. The grip on his mouth and on his chest was strong, and he couldn’t break the hold as the man dragged him into the alleyway a few doors away from Hiccup’s apartment.

"We don’t need any of your friends coming to spoil our fun, do we?” he asked, mock consideration in his voice even as he pinned Hiccup to the wall. He allowed his grip to loosen, in order to start feeling Hiccup up, and that was the opportunity that Hiccup needed. He wrested control from the man, grabbing the pepper spray in his pocket, turning the safety to the side, and unleashing the full canister into the assailant’s eyes. "MOTHER FUCKER,“ the man yelled, releasing Hiccup from his grip as he clawed at the burning in his eyes.

He was pinned to the wall, but Hiccup had enough strength to push the man back and wedge his way out. He pushed the man to the side, trying to get past the dumpster that blocked him from his escape.

The man’s foot swept under Hiccup’s legs, bringing the skinny boy crashing to the ground. Hiccup’s face contorted in pure terror and pain as the man’s foot came down hard on his back, pinning him to the ground. Hiccup wrestled against the force, but the man was recovering with every passing second.

"I was going to be nice to you,” the man growled through barred teeth. “But now you’ve really pissed me OFF,” he yelled, twisting his foot in Hiccup’s back, and Hiccup couldn’t fight back the scream that escaped from his throat.

The man got dropped down lower, still pinning Hiccup to the ground; even from this distance, Hiccup could smell the pepper wafting off of the man’s face. “Now you’re going to cooperate with everything I say, and I might let you walk out of here alive.  _Do we understand each other?_ “ Hiccup whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

Grabbing him from the back of his shirt, the man lifted Hiccup to his feet, throwing him ungracefully against the wall. This time, Hiccup didn’t try to fight back. He closed his eyes tightly.

A blinding flash of light shone through his eyelids, and Hiccup opened them, shock momentarily overpowering the fear. A powerful flashlight illuminated both Hiccup’s assailant and himself, but the third figure was just a silhouette.

"What’s going on here,” the deep voice asked with authority.

Hiccup’s attacker had turned his head to face the newcomer, but Hiccup could still see the look of anger on his face. “Officer, this is my mate; we’re just having a slight argument is all.”

“How about I mate my baton with your throat, asshole. Unhand him and step away.”

“Officer, there is no need for—” Hiccup could see the man reaching towards his pocket slowly.

“HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM,” the policeman shouted.

“Everything is fine, officer,” Hiccup’s assailant said, neither releasing Hiccup nor moving his hands away from his pocket. “Everything is fine.” The man touched the tip of his pocket, and Hiccup could see the slight flash of metal and plastic.

“KNIFE!” Hiccup yelled out as loud as he could, and in an instant the light shifted as Hiccup could hear a gun cock. Hiccup was spun around, now directly facing the light, with the man hiding between him and the wall.

“Now officer, let’s not get too hasty here. Nobody has a knife; nobody has done anything wrong. This is just all a big misunderstanding.” Hiccup could feel the sharpness of metal just towards the side of his back, though, and what little composure he still had was breaking rapidly.

“Release him. NOW,” the officer shouted back.

“Officer, please. "Surely we can talk this out like reasonable men," Hiccup’s lower lip trembled and his breath came ragged. "Let’s be reasonable here. It’s just an omega," the man added, grip releasing slightly.

Where the courage came from, Hiccup to this day cannot say. But in that moment, when the grip on his neck loosened, Hiccup drove his head backwards, colliding with the man’s head behind him, driving it into the wall with as much force as he could muster. Slipping from his hands, Hiccup dove to the side.

"WHY YOU SON OF A BITCH,” the man yelled, turning on Hiccup, knife raised.

The echo of the gunshots in the alleyway was deafening, and Hiccup’s ears were ringing so loudly that he didn’t hear the knife drop to the ground or the man’s body slump down. Hiccup’s eyes were wide, horrified, as the slightest bit of blood began to pool from around the body. Hiccup’s entire body shook, adrenaline and fear coursing through even the smallest veins of his body. He found that he couldn’t move, nor could he make a sound.

The officer came running forward, kicking the knife to the far corner of the alleyway before checking the body. The officer knelt down, balancing on his toes.

“Frost, what’s going on? We heard shots from your area,” came a static voice from the officer’s radio.

The officer pulled the radio from the side of his vest. “This is Frost. We had an attempted sexual assault, with a knife. Shots fired; one dead, victim in shock. Send for an ambulance.”

The sound of the radio returning to its velcro secure was followed a moment later by the flashlight turning off. Hiccup’s eyes were wide, and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“Are you alright? Are you injured anywhere?” He asked. Hiccup wasn’t fully aware as he stared up at the police officer. The officer leaned in, closer, trying to see if there were any noticeable injuries.

That’s when Hiccup’s mind registered everything at once.

This man was an alpha, too.

_»DANGER. YOU’RE STILL IN DANGER.»_

Without a word, Hiccup pushed the officer backwards, his precarious perch causing him to fall backwards on top of the body. In a matter of seconds, before the officer had any ability to grasp the situation, Hiccup had already run around the corner of the alleyway, back onto the main street. He stumbled over his feet, his mind still addled from the shock, and he wasn’t aware of somehow scooping up the bag of medicine as he ran, or his keys where they had fallen, or opening the lock.

As he slammed the front door to the apartment complex, he could hear the officer shouting in the distance. “Hey!”

Hiccup raced up the stairs, not waiting for the decrepit elevator. He reached his apartment on the fifth floor, fingers shaking uncontrollably. He finally got the key into the lock, shoving open the door just as he could hear another apartment door down the hallway open; his door was slammed shut before the woman in the hallway had a chance to look out her door in curiosity.

He locked the door, sliding the two deadbolts into place and securing the chain. From the couch, Rapunzel was propped up on her elbow, trying to make sense of what she had woken from her fitful rest.

Hiccup, splattered with blood that was not his own, shaking from head to toe and face red from tears, fell back against the door, sliding to the ground, and wept.


End file.
